


Remus Wears Sirius’ Quidditch Jerseyc

by simplysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Relationship(s), Remus x Sirius, sirius x remus, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:35:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysirius/pseuds/simplysirius
Summary: When Remus fills in as the Quidditch commentator, he decides to wear Sirius’ jersey in quiet support of his sort-of-secret-boyfriend.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 109





	Remus Wears Sirius’ Quidditch Jerseyc

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @simplysirius for daily fics and fan art! I also take requests :)

Remus had never commentated on a Quidditch game before, but when the usual announcer fell ill, Sirius had automatically volunteered Remus to take his place.

“It’s the best spot in the house,” Sirius had insisted with a wink, “you get to talk about how great I am when I score fifty points on Slytherin in the first two minutes.”

As it turns out, he liked sitting up in the announcer’s booth, microphone in hand, shouting every time Gryffindor scored, mumbling whenever Slytherin stole the quaffle back.

He also liked the feel of Sirius’ jersey against his skin.

The red and gold shirt was carefully hidden underneath his robes, so not to alert the entire school that he was Sirius Black’s number one fan on and off the field, and even though the stitching scratched at his scars and he wasn’t sure when Sirius had last washed it, wearing the jersey was something of a sacred vow. The five letters that spelled B-L-A-C-K burned into his shoulder blades, a hidden tattoo that forever marked Remus as Sirius’.

The game against Slytherin was going just as Sirius had planned; Gryffindor snatched the quaffle first, tossing it back and forth as they worked it towards the goals. A beefy Slytherin beater hit a well-aimed bludger at Sirius’ head, but he managed to duck under it and score the first points in the game.

“Yes, nicely done!” Remus shouted, accidentally forgetting he was supposed to be commenting, not cheering. “Uh, Sirius Black scores ten points to Gryffindor!”

Sirius and James high-fived, flying close to the announcer’s booth and sending Remus a quick wink before rocketing back to the game.

After a few more Gryffindor goals, Slytherin was growing restless. The students broke out into a chorus of hissing any time their players flew past the stand, and the Slytherin chasers were sick of coming up empty.

Remus saw it coming before it happened. A green and silver chaser stole the bat out from one of the beaters, tracing Sirius’ trajectory in the air as he raced towards the three rings. With a heavy swing, the chaser slammed a bludger in Sirius’ direction, right at his blind spot.

There was no time to dodge the attack. The bludger rammed into Sirius’ cheek, throwing him off balance. His broom teetered precariously for a long moment as Sirius tried to right himself, but before he could get back under control, he slipped from his broom and sailed through the air. Remus gasped, jumping to his feet and yelling Sirius’ name.

“Sirius! Sirius Black has been hit! He’s off his broom, he’s falling!”

James caught the commotion out of the corner of his eye, abandoning his race for the quaffle in the arms of a smirking Slytherin, and raced towards Sirius. Reaching out as far as he could, James just barely caught Sirius by the scruff of his jersey just inches from the ground, saving him from a rough landing that was likely to shatter a few bones.

After a dazed moment, Sirius rose to his feet, holding his cheek, and swung his leg back over his broom. The Gryffindor stands erupted as he kicked off the ground and rejoined the fray, a newfound edge to his play as he wrested for the quaffle and made sure to send a few bludgers towards his new Slytherin friends, as well.

Remus could barely feel his body after the hit, scrambling to continue his commentator duties while also keeping a careful eye on Sirius. Getting hit was part of Quidditch, and he winced when James took a bludger to the arm or stomach, but it was an entirely different feeling watching Sirius get hit. Every time a Slytherin slammed into him or a bludger grazed the side of his head, Remus could feel it, too, their bodies connected by invisible heart strings and electrified nerves.

Gryffindor won handily after a pair of goals from James, followed by a revenge score from Sirius, and soon after, the Golden Snitch was caught by Gryffindor’s third year seeker.

“Gryffindor wins!” Remus whooped, clapping wildly as the team took a victory lap around the field, the players waving their fists in the air triumphantly.

After every game, Remus and Sirius made it something of a tradition to gather in the stairwell of the Gryffindor grandstand, a hidden celebration of their win, away from prying eyes and loud mouths. Remus waited there now, his heart still slamming against his chest every time he closed his eyes and saw Sirius plummeting to the ground.

“You should be the commentator for every game,” a voice suggested behind him. “You’re my personal cheerleader.”

Remus turned to find Sirius leaning against the threshold of the grandstand, arms crossed on his chest, a sly smile spread on his face. He jumped up the stairs, pressing a quick kiss to Remus’ lips.

“That was too stressful,” Remus chuckled, his hands settling on Sirius’ hips. He’d probably have a dark bruise on his cheek come morning, but, perhaps selfishly, Remus looked forward to taking care of him, returning the favor after years of Sirius patching him up. “I don’t like watching the game; I just like watching you.”

“I was wondering where that went,” Sirius smiled, tugging on the collar of his jersey underneath Remus’ robes. “I was looking for my lucky jersey for an hour this morning.”

“Sorry,” Remus grimaced, “I thought the one with the rip was your lucky one?”

“That used to be my lucky jersey. But now that’s my lucky one.”

“What changed?”

Sirius pulled Remus deeper into the grandstand, pressing him into a corner concealed in the safety of the shadows. “So there was one day that this super hot guy dragged me up to the astronomy tower after practice, right? And I was all sweaty and gross but he didn’t really care because he’s weird like that, and as soon as we were alone he just attacked me–”

“I did not attack you,” Remus protested, pouting his lips.

“It was definitely a sneak attack,” Sirius argued. “You just kissed me out of nowhere, and I was just standing there like holy shit, Remus goddamn Lupin is kissing me, I’m the luckiest bloke in the world.”

Remus rolled his eyes, grinning at Sirius’ dramatic retelling of their first kiss. In his defense, how was he supposed to control himself when Sirius’ was drenched from the rain, his jersey clinging to his muscled chest, hair plastered against his head like some kind of Greek god emerging from the water? One crooked smile with bits of dirt still stuck between his teeth was all it took to unravel Remus.

“So now this,” Sirius said, pointing at the jersey underneath Remus’ robes, “is my lucky jersey. And this thing I’m wearing is my unlucky jersey. Basically, it’s entirely your fault I almost died tonight.”

Remus scoffed. “If you ever pull something like that again I swear to god, Sirius Black, I’ll–”

“What? Attack me?” He suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Remus smacked his shoulder. “Trust me, I’d rather not fall on my ass from twenty feet in the air. I loved the commentary though.”

“The whole school probably knows by now,” Remus sighed, covering his face with his hands to hide his burning cheeks. “It wasn’t very subtle. I’m sorry.”

Sirius shrugged, indifferent. “They’re all pretty stupid, Remus. I’ve been tripping over my own feet every time I look at you for the past six years, and no one’s noticed a thing.”

“Hey, I didn’t even notice anything until last year.”

“That’s because you’re stupid, too,” Sirius teased, kissing Remus’ cheek. “It wouldn’t be such a bad thing though, would it? If people knew?”

Remus sighed, thinking about a life spent outside of the shadows. A life where they could kiss on the Quidditch field in the warm setting sun, instead of hidden in the grandstand. Where they could hold hands down the hallway and curl up beside each other in the common room without teasing remarks. “No. It’s just…I finally have you all to myself, you know? And I kind of like it that way. No one to tell us who we should be or what we should do. I want to keep you for a little longer, if that’s okay.”

Sirius nodded, understanding perfectly. “I get it. I don’t want any other guys thinking they have a chance with you.”

Remus laughed, the melodic sound echoing throughout the grandstand. He clamped a hand over his mouth and waited for the reverberations to subside. “Do you want your jersey back?”

“No,” Sirius said, batting Remus’ hands from the hem of the fabric. He untied the strings of Remus’ robe, pushing the black cloak off his shoulders to reveal the brilliant red and gold jersey with the Gryffindor sigil on the front and Sirius’ name on the back. “It looks much better on you.”

The jersey was tailored for Sirius’ body, his broad shoulders and short torso, so the fabric didn’t quite fit Remus, revealing the slightest bare curve of his hips and the dips of his collarbones.

Remus watched Sirius take in the sight, his stomach churning as Sirius’ eyes flickered up and down his body, trying to keep his hands from shaking in anticipation. Finally, Sirius’ fingers found Remus’ jaw, his thumb rubbing over a pair of chapped lips.

“On second thought, maybe it would be better if you took it off,” he grinned, pressing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.


End file.
